Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

  Stricken, stomach heaving, Tehrazzi sprinted to the spot where she’d fallen and peered down. Allah, please let her be all right. Over the roar in his ears came her agonized screams and bile rose in his throat. Her black body thrashed weakly in a wadi partway down, her broken forelegs flopping uselessly as she tried to stand.

  Without realizing he’d moved, he found himself scrambling down the steep wall past some of the others. They froze at his guttural cry of grief as he raced to Ghaliya’s side.

  On level ground, he approached her slowly, speaking to her in a soothing voice though tears streamed down his face. The whites of the mare’s eyes showed as he came nearer, ears pricked forward at his crooning tone. As that gentle, agonized gaze settled on his, he saw the mute plea in them and sobbed as his heart broke.

  Falling to his knees beside her, he stroked her quivering neck, fiery pain burning in his chest as she attempted to butt his shoulder with her nose. Quaking with shock and anguish, he unsheathed the jeweled dagger from his belt, careful to keep her from seeing it.

  He passed his hand over the fine slope of her forehead and nose, her panting breaths and whinnies tearing at him. Gathering a breath, he brought the knife up and sliced through her throat with a hard, clean swipe. Her head snapped up, her body jerking as she stared at him in stunned surprise, her blood gushing from the mortal wound.

  He held her heavy head in his lap while her lifeblood soaked through his clothing into the sand beneath them, her trusting eyes fixed on his as she died. When she breathed no more, Tehrazzi tilted his tear-stained face to the sky and screamed to the heavens.

  As her blood congealed around him, his rage and hatred condensed in his soul. His teacher would pay for this. Him and Daoud’s daughter.

  By Allah, I will make them all pay.

  ****

  Day 12, Baghdad

  A little after nine that morning, Ben leaned back in his chair at the computer terminal and stretched his arms over his head. A mighty yawn worked its way up his throat and cracked his jaw, making his eyes water. After the night’s work they’d put in, he wanted a hot shower and a bed, in that order and nothing else.

  What a goat-fuck the op had been. Not only had they missed Tehrazzi, but watching those kids die had to have leveled Bryn. He hoped to hell Irish was taking good care of her, and that he’d finally ditched his rigid code of conduct in order to give her the comfort she must need right now. Jesus, Ben thought. Who the hell would have ever guessed he’d wish for that? The idea didn’t hurt so much now, though. Not since he’d met Sam.

  His phone rang, and he was surprised to see Sam’s number displayed. Earlier that morning he’d offered to see her home from the TOC, but she’d waved him off with a good-natured reply and taken a cab. He picked up. “Hey, sweets. Miss me already?”

  “Ben, someone’s been into my place.”

  He sat bolt upright at the alarm in her voice. “What? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but someone broke in this morning around five. They’ve been into my computer and took some personal mail.”

  Ben was silent a moment. “They take anything else?”

  She huffed out an irritated breath. “I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but my gut says differently.”

  Okay. “Why’s that?”

  “They took a letter from Neveah, and opened my email file with her name on it.”

  Why would they bother unless they meant to use it for something? Sam’s cousin meant everything to her. If someone had been looking for a way to gain leverage with Sam, they’d done their homework.

  “I also found a transmitter in my smoke detector—”

  “What?” What kind of crazy bullshit was this?

  “—so I figure there have to be more. Could you come over?” She’d dropped her voice to a whisper.

  Yeah, because that’ll help if someone’s listening in.

  “Damn straight. We’re on our way.”

  He and Rhys drove straight over and went through her suite room by room. While Rhys stayed with her, Ben headed to security to review the hotel’s CCTV tapes. He returned and told them a dark-haired man of medium build was seen entering her room at about oh-four-fifty that morning, but the images weren’t clear enough to ID him.

  Sam’s face was pale as flour at the news. She handed him the dime-sized transmitter she’d found in her smoke detector.

  Suspicion took root in his gut as he sat down at her laptop to look at her emails. With a few keystrokes, he entered her password and found an email from her cousin saying she was flying to Kabul in three days. So, Neveah was off to save the world again with Doctors Without Borders. Imagine completing medical school and residency only to pack up and leave all creature comforts behind to fly to the ass end of the world and put yourself in the middle of a moonscape war zone.

  Ben closed the file and turned his head to look at Sam. “Got anything else you want to tell me?”

  She swallowed and broke eye contact, which made the acid churn in his stomach. “I’ve—I’ve been followed.”

  Ben raised a brow. “Is that right. When?”

  “I don’t have any hard evidence, but I feel someone behind me sometimes when I’m out.”

  For God’s sake… “How long has this been happening?”

  “A week or two now.”

  “And you only thought to tell someone about it now?”

  She fidgeted. “After this morning, I realized it’s not just my imagination playing tricks on me.”

  Yeah, and wasn’t that a damn shame? “Any reason I don’t know about that might explain why someone has taken such an interest in you?”

  Her posture and expression radiated nervousness. “No.”

  Christ, he hoped she was telling the truth about that.

  He analyzed this new intel. Who the hell was it he’d seen on that video? Not anyone from the Najaf op, because they’d only arrived in Baghdad two hours ago. That left Fahdi and Davis, but why in hell would they have broken in to Sam’s place? Besides, it could easily have been a stranger. American contractors had plenty of enemies in Baghdad.

  Whoever it was, someone had been watching her carefully enough to be certain she hadn’t returned home last night. Which meant someone was keeping a very close eye on her.

  The question was, why? Either she had information someone wanted, or she was hiding something and they were trying to find it.

  His brother was still checking around the apartment for other bugs. “Find anything yet, Rhys?”

  “Negative,” Rhys called from the bedroom.

  The whole place was immaculately clean. Everything was in its place, and then some. The woman was a manic organizer. No wonder she’d noticed her cousin’s letter was missing. Ben scanned the room with a critical eye, trying to decide where he’d plant a bug.

  He got up and walked to a framed picture hanging on the wall above her couch, and carefully pulled a corner of it away from the wall. He almost missed it. Craning his neck, he peered closer. There. Something green and metallic. A micro-transmitter. Bingo. He grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger and pried it loose. “This look familiar?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not one of mine.”

  Her defensive answer made the nape of his neck prickle, and reminded him that she built and hid things like these for a living. “I didn’t say it was. I just meant it looks the same as the one you already found.”

  “Oh. Yeah, it’s the same.”

  What did they have on her to warrant bugging her place? He eyed the cordless phone extension on her desk. “You check that thing?”

  “No, I didn’t want to touch anything else until you got here.”

  He opened up the handset and sure enough, found one in there, too. Were there more? Might be cameras here as well, he thought, glancing around at the possible hiding places. “Any other spots you can suggest?” She should know. She’d bugged plenty of rooms in her tenure with the CIA.

  “No. You guys seem to have it covered.”
>
  Did the CIA have her under surveillance? Luke was the obvious answer because he had the highest security clearance and knew things the rest of them didn’t, but it could have been any of the handlers at the office. Or was it someone with terrorism or extortion on their mind? Hard to believe any CIA operative would be so sloppy as to leave evidence of their presence.

  Unless they wanted her to know they were keeping tabs on her. They might if they suspected she had something they wanted.

  Ben thought of the possible culprits in their cozy little group. Fahdi had been acting weird for the past day or two, curt and withdrawn, and he was friends with Sam. If Luke had noticed the change in behavior, he hadn’t said anything, but Ben doubted Fahdi would have the guts or the know how to do this in the first place.

  Davis, maybe. He was a cool customer. Always skulking about, never socializing with anyone. More of a loner than Rhys, if that was possible. But what reason would Luke have for wanting Sam tagged? The whole thing made Ben damned uneasy.

  At any rate, it was safer for her to return to the TOC until they knew what was going on. “Let’s get you out of here and get some answers.” Maybe while they were at it, Ben would get some of his own.

  On the way out, Rhys stopped in front of a picture of Sam and Neveah hanging on the fridge. They were in the desert with a pair of camels, the pyramids rising behind them in the distance, other tourists captured in the frame with them. A frown creased his forehead as he squinted at the thing.

  Ben frowned at him. “Problem?”

  “Cairo,” she said to Rhys, coming up behind him. “We met there in May, after the op you and I worked in Paris. Why?”

  Ben squinted at the photo too. What the hell was his brother looking at? Rhys knew Neveah, and yeah, she was a knockout, but it wasn’t like his twin to gawk at a woman like that. Did he see something Ben didn’t?

  Rhys continued to study the photo as if he was memorizing it. “How is she, anyway?”

  “Good,” Sam said.

  Enough, already. “Let’s go,” Ben prompted.

  They took her back to the TOC in the Suburban, Ben’s shoulder bumping against hers until he draped his arm around her to cushion her. He escorted her inside, sat her down and offered to stay with her. Reassuring him she was fine, she buried herself in work for the next hour until Rhys returned with Luke and Fahdi.

  Luke came straight over to her, and with Ben following for extra security, took her to an empty room so they could talk alone. Watching from the other side of the plate glass window separating them, she spoke while Luke stood there with his arms folded. Ben detected nothing in his boss’s expression or body language that betrayed surprise, but he was a legend for a reason.

  The one-sided conversation continued for another minute while Luke’s eyes remained steady on Sam. His expression remained unreadable. Finally, Luke cocked his head, and Ben lip-read his response. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

  What the hell did that mean? Find out what? Ben tried to puzzle everything together. Whatever it was, Luke had just given her the go ahead for something.

  The door opened and Sam forced a smile as she and Luke came out.

  “Everything all right?” Ben asked. She looked even more nervous than she had back at her place.

  “Yes, fine.”

  Tell me another one, sweets. Ben followed them to another door and waited outside. Sam emerged a few minutes later, and passing him to round the corner, ran smack into Fahdi.

  “Sorry, Miss Sam,” he blurted, reaching out to steady her.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  Fahdi brushed a hand over his shirt as though smoothing wrinkles and reached for the gold chain caught on his collar. Sam beat him to it, closing her fingers around the pendant to settle it into the v of his open collar.

  Fahdi grinned down at his good luck charm. “Thank you.” His espresso eyes regarded her with warmth.

  “No problem.” Her voice was a mere thread of a sound. As she stepped aside to let him pass, she met Ben’s hard stare and forced another smile.

  Shooting Luke a questioning glance as she walked away, Ben had a really bad feeling something big was going down.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Two hours later, Dec sauntered into their barracks in Baghdad and nodded to Ali, seated on his bunk reading a Sports Illustrated. “Got time to drive us to a meeting?”

  Ali swung his legs over the side of his bunk. “Sure. Where to?”

  “Gotta head over to the TOC and meet with Luke.”

  “Okay.” He snagged the keys to the Humvee and headed for the door.

  Dec withheld a weary sigh. After the night they’d had in the desert, he’d been hoping for another few hours’ downtime, mostly for Bryn’s sake. But they’d come closer than ever to getting Tehrazzi last night, so they had to follow up while the trail was hot.

  He glanced down the row of bunks to hers, where she lay on her side watching him. “Tired?”

  “A little.”

  Damn, he shouldn’t leave her alone, even just to go to the TOC. If he were Bryn, he wouldn’t want to be left alone either. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her stricken expression as she’d tried in vain to rescue those children.

  Mind made up, he pivoted and headed for the door, throwing it open. As he exited, his first breath of air hit his lungs like a blast furnace. Beads of sweat popped out on his skin, the midday sun beating down on his head through his wide-brimmed hat.

  As he came around the side of the building, he scanned for the Suburban and saw it parked along the perimeter fence next to the heavily guarded gate. The Humvee was in front of it, boxing it in. Fahdi must have left it there after his meeting with a contact last night.

  “Ali, wait. Bryn’s coming with us, so we’ll need the Suburban.”

  Ali turned around and caught the keys Dec tossed at him. “Sure, no problem. I’ll just move the Hummer. Be right back.” He hustled across the baking asphalt to the vehicles.

  Christ it was hot, Dec thought, heading back into the blessed coolness of the barracks and paused at a window. Helluva nice kid, Dec thought as he watched Ali.

  Out on the street, a boy passed by with his mother, his curious gaze fastened on Ali’s uniform. The boy smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. Ali grinned and returned the gesture. Dec could only hope the boy would grow up to defend his country as Ali had, rather than destroy it.

  Ali was one of the lucky ones. Dec had read his file. A couple of years ago Ali had nearly participated in a suicide mission. An imam had recruited him through a local madrassa for a radical militia. The leaders filled him so full of hate for Americans and all things western he’d actually prayed for God to let him blow himself up so he could kill as many of them as possible.

  His father, a policeman, had somehow found out what Ali was involved with and begged him not to go through with it. Whether or not the plea had registered with his son was not mentioned in the file, but next morning, the father went to work and never came back. He was gunned down outside the police station by the leader of the same militia Ali had trained with.

  After that, Ali decided blowing himself up would only perpetuate the cycle of violence. At that moment, he’d chosen to be part of the solution for his people instead of part of the problem. Which was why he was now working for Luke. Dec admired the hell out of the kid for trying to make a difference.

  Turning away from the window when Ali climbed into the Humvee, Dec grabbed his duffel and packed an extra pistol and some ammo. If anything happened on their trip to the TOC, he wanted to be prepared. Adding some bottles of water, he glanced up at Bryn, who was covering her hair with a headscarf.

  “It’s five hundred degrees out there,” she complained, “and I have to boil inside a robe while you guys can run around in t-shirts.”

  “But you look so hot in it,” he teased.

  She glared at him. “That’s because I am hot.” Then she laughed. “Idiot.”

  “Ready?” he asked.
>
  “Y—”

  The roar of an explosion shattered the air.

  The blast rocked the building, lifted them off their feet, the concussion blowing out the windows. Glass sprayed. Dec threw his body over Bryn, tumbling her to the floor and holding her there underneath him. When the earth settled, he scrambled up, shoving Bryn back down, barking at her to stay put.

  “Everyone okay?” he panted.

  Rhys and Ben came running around the corner from the back office. “Yeah.” Their faces were tight as they grabbed their rifles and followed him to the door. People were shouting and screaming, and as Dec burst outside, the carnage brought him up short so fast the twins plowed into him.

  “Jesus Christ,” he breathed at the ball of flame and smoke billowing from a crater beside the perimeter fence. Fortunately, because the explosion had occurred closer to the road than the barracks, the damage within the compound seemed minimal.

  Beyond it, windows all along the street had been blown out, shards of glass littering the ground. Several buildings were pockmarked with shrapnel holes. Blackened vehicles lay in twisted disarray.

  Rhys pushed past him like a battering ram through the demolished gatehouse into the gawking crowd. Grabbing an Iraqi soldier, he demanded in Arabic, “What happened? Did you see anything?”

  The man pointed with a shaking hand. “The Humvee. It just…exploded.”

  “Christ…Ali,” Dec muttered, skin crawling at the devastation in front of him. If they hadn’t needed the bigger Suburban so Bryn could accompany them, they’d have climbed into the Hummer. If not for her…shit, they’d be charred corpses right now.

  Ben and Rhys wore the same expression he knew must be displayed on his own. They’d escaped death by an eyelash, but Ali…poor bastard. Dec prayed he hadn’t known what hit him, told himself that he wouldn’t have felt anything.

  Sirens wailed nearer, shaking him out of his stupor. The three of them waded into the fray, helping to secure the area while the ambulance and fire crews dealt with the wounded and the flames. When he could do no more, he returned to Bryn, found her huddled against the wall.